SECTION XX.

Interference of Light—Undulatory Theory of Light—Propagation of

Light—Newton’s Rings—Measurement of the Length of the Waves of Light,

and of the Frequency of the Vibrations of Ether for each

Colour—Newton’s Scale of Colours—Diffraction of Light—Sir John

Herschel’s Theory of the Absorption of Light—Refraction and Reflection

of Light.

NEWTON and most of his immediate successors imagined light to be a

material substance, emitted by all self-luminous bodies in extremely

minute particles, moving in straight lines with prodigious velocity,

which, by impinging upon the optic nerves, produce the sensation of

light. Many of the observed phenomena have been explained by this

theory; it is, however, totally inadequate to account for the following

circumstances.

When two equal rays of red light, proceeding from two luminous points,

fall upon a sheet of white paper in a dark room, they produce a red spot

on it which will be twice as bright as either ray would produce singly,

provided the difference in the lengths of the two beams, from the

luminous points to the red spot on the paper, be exactly the 0·0000258th

part of an inch. The same effect will take place if the difference in

the lengths be twice, three times, four times, &c., that quantity. But

if the difference in the lengths of the two rays be equal to one-half of

the 0·0000258th part of an inch, or to its 1-1/2, 2-1/2, 3-1/2, &c.,

part, the one light will entirely extinguish the other, and will produce

absolute darkness on the paper where the united beams fall. If the

difference in the lengths of their paths be equal to the 1-1/4, 2-1/4,

3-1/4, &c., of the 0·0000258th part of an inch, the red spot arising

from the combined beams will be of the same intensity which one alone

would produce. If violet light be employed, the difference in the

lengths of the two beams must be equal to the 0·0000157th part of an

inch, in order to produce the same phenomena; and for the other colours,

the difference must be intermediate between the 0·0000258th and the

0·0000157th part of an inch. Similar phenomena may be seen by viewing

the flame of a candle through two very fine slits in a card extremely

near to one another (N. 198); or by admitting the sun’s light into a

dark room through a pin-hole about the fortieth of an inch in diameter,

receiving the image on a sheet of white paper, and holding a slender

wire in the light. Its shadow will be found to consist of a bright white

bar or stripe in the middle, with a series of alternate black and

brightly-coloured stripes on each side. The rays which bend round the

wire in two streams are of equal lengths in the middle stripe; it is

consequently doubly bright from their combined effect; but the rays

which fall on the paper on each side of the bright stripe, being of such

unequal lengths as to destroy one another, form black lines. On each

side of these black lines the rays are again of such lengths as to

combine to form bright stripes, and so on alternately till the light is

too faint to be visible. When any homogeneous light is used, such as

red, the alternations are only black and red; but on account of the

heterogeneous nature of white light, the black lines alternate with

vivid stripes or fringes of prismatic colours, arising from the

superposition of systems of alternate black lines and lines of each

homogeneous colour. That the alternation of black lines and coloured

fringes actually does arise from the mixture of the two streams of light

which flow round the wire, is proved by their vanishing the instant one

of the streams is interrupted. It may therefore be concluded, as often

as these stripes of light and darkness occur, that they are owing to the

rays combining at certain intervals to produce a joint effect, and at

others to extinguish one another. Now it is contrary to all our ideas of

matter to suppose that two particles of it should annihilate one another

under any circumstances whatever; while, on the contrary, two opposing

motions may; and it is impossible not to be struck with the perfect

similarity between the interferences of small undulations of air or of

water and the preceding phenomena. The analogy is indeed so perfect,

that philosophers of the highest authority concur in the belief that the

celestial regions are filled with an extremely rare and highly elastic

medium or ether, whose particles are capable of receiving the vibrations

communicated to them by self-luminous bodies, and of transmitting them

to the optic nerves, so as to produce the sensation of light. The

acceleration in the mean motion of Encke’s comet, as well as of the

comet discovered by M. Biela, renders the existence of such a medium

certain. It is clear that, in this hypothesis, the alternate stripes of

light and darkness are entirely the effect of the interference of the

undulations; for, by actual measurement, the length of a wave of the

mean red rays of the solar spectrum is equal to the 0·0000258th part of

an inch; consequently, when the elevations of the waves combine, they

produce double the intensity of light that each would do singly; and

when half a wave combines with a whole—that is, when the hollow of one

wave is filled up by the elevation of another—darkness is the result. At

intermediate points between these extremes, the intensity of the light

corresponds to intermediate differences in the lengths of the rays.

The theory of interferences is a particular case of the general

mechanical law of the superposition of small motions; whence it appears

that the disturbance of a particle of an elastic medium, produced by two

co-existent undulations, is the sum of the disturbances which each

undulation would produce separately; consequently, the particle will

move in the diagonal of a parallelogram, whose sides are the two

undulations. If, therefore, the two undulations agree in direction, or

nearly so, the resulting motion will be very nearly equal to their sum,

and in the same direction; if they nearly oppose one another, the

resulting motion will be nearly equal to their difference; and, if the

undulations be equal and opposite, the resultant will be zero, and the

particle will remain at rest.

The preceding experiments, and the inferences deduced from them, which

have led to the establishment of the doctrine of the undulations of

light, are the most splendid memorials of our illustrious countryman Dr.

Thomas Young, though Huygens was the first to originate the idea.

It is supposed that the particles of luminous bodies are in a state of

perpetual agitation, and that they possess the property of exciting

regular vibrations in the molecules of the ethereal medium,

corresponding to the vibrations of their own molecules; and that, on

account of its elastic nature, one particle of the ether when set in

motion communicates its vibrations to those adjacent, which in

succession transmit them to those farther off; so that the primitive

impulse is transferred from particle to particle, and the undulating

motion darts through ether like a wave in water; so that light is

motion, and therefore subject to the laws of dynamics and mathematical

analysis. Although the progressive motion of light is known by

experience to be uniform and in a straight line, the vibrations of the

particles are always at right angles to the direction of the ray. The

propagation of light is like the spreading of waves in water; but, if

one ray alone be considered, its motion may be conceived by supposing a

rope of indefinite length stretched horizontally, one end of which is

held in the hand. If it be agitated to and fro at regular intervals,

with a motion perpendicular to its length, a series of similar and equal

tremors or waves will be propagated along it; and if the regular

impulses be given in a variety of planes, as up and down, from right to

left, and also in oblique directions, the successive undulations will

take place in every possible plane. An analogous motion in the ether,

when communicated to the optic nerves, would produce the sensation of

common light. It is evident that the waves which flow from end to end of

the cord in a serpentine form are altogether different from the

perpendicular vibratory motion of each particle of the rope, which never

deviates far from a state of rest. So, in ether, each particle vibrates

perpendicularly to the direction of the ray; but these vibrations are

totally different from and independent of the undulations which are

transmitted through it, in the same manner as the vibrations of each

particular ear of corn are independent of the waves that rush from end

to end of a harvest-field when agitated by the wind.

The intensity of light depends upon the amplitude or extent of the

vibrations of the particles of ether, while its colour depends upon

their frequency. The time of the vibration of a particle of ether is, by

theory, as the length of a wave directly, and inversely as its velocity.

Now, as the velocity of light is known to be 190,000 miles in a second,

if the lengths of the waves of the different coloured rays could be

measured, the number of vibrations in a second corresponding to each

could be computed. That has been accomplished as follows:—All

transparent substances of a certain thickness, with parallel surfaces,

reflect and transmit white light; but, if they be extremely thin, both

the reflected and transmitted light is coloured. The vivid hues on

soap-bubbles, the iridescent colours produced by heat on polished steel

and copper, the fringes of colour between the laminæ of Iceland spar and

sulphate of lime, all consist of a succession of hues disposed in the

same order, totally independent of the colour of the substance, and

determined solely by its greater or less thickness—a circumstance which

affords the means of ascertaining the length of the waves of each

coloured ray, and the frequency of the vibrations of the particles

producing them. If a plate of glass be laid upon a lens of almost

imperceptible curvature, before an open window, when they are pressed

together a black spot will be seen in the point of contact, surrounded

by seven rings of vivid colours, all differing from one another

(N. 199). In the first ring, estimated from the black spot, the colours

succeed each other in the following order:—black, very faint blue,

brilliant white, yellow, orange, and red. They are quite different in

the other rings, and in the seventh the only colours are pale bluish

green and very pale pink. That these rings are formed between the two

surfaces in apparent contact may be proved by laying a prism on the lens

instead of the plate of glass, and viewing the rings through the

inclined side of it that is next to the eye, which arrangement prevents

the light reflected from the upper surface mixing with that from the

surfaces in contact, so that the intervals between the rings appear

perfectly black—one of the strongest circumstances in favour of the

undulatory theory; for, although the phenomena of the rings can be

explained by either hypothesis, there is this material difference, that,

according to the undulatory theory, the intervals between the rings

ought to be absolutely black, which is confirmed by experiment; whereas,

by the doctrine of emanation, they ought to be half illuminated, which

is not found to be the case. M. Fresnel, whose opinion is of the first

authority, thought this test conclusive. It may therefore be concluded

that the rings arise entirely from the interference of the rays: the

light reflected from each of the surfaces in apparent contact reaches

the eye by paths of different lengths, and produces coloured and dark

rings alternately, according as the reflected waves coincide or destroy

one another. The breadths of the rings are unequal; they decrease in

width, and the colours become more crowded, as they recede from the

centre. Coloured rings are also produced by transmitting light through

the same apparatus; but the colours are less vivid, and are

complementary to those reflected, consequently the central spot is

white.

The size of the rings increases with the obliquity of the incident

light, the same colour requiring a greater thickness or space between

the glasses to produce it than when the light falls perpendicularly upon

them. Now, if the apparatus be placed in homogeneous instead of white

light, the rings will all be of the same colour with that of the light

employed, that is to say, if the light be red, the rings will be red,

divided by black intervals. The size of the rings varies with the colour

of the light. They are largest in red, and decrease in magnitude with

the succeeding prismatic colours, being smallest in violet light.

Since one of the glasses is plane and the other spherical, it is evident

that from the point of contact the space between them gradually

increases in thickness all round, so that a certain thickness of air

corresponds to each colour, which in the undulatory system measures the

length of the wave producing it (N. 200). By actual measurement Sir

Isaac Newton found that the squares of the diameters of the brightest

part of each ring are as the odd numbers, 1, 3, 5, 7, &c.; and that the

squares of the diameters of the darkest parts are as the even numbers,

0, 2, 4, 6, &c. Consequently, the intervals between the glasses at these

points are in the same proportion. If, then, the thickness of the air

corresponding to any one colour could be found, its thickness for all

the others would be known. Now, as Sir Isaac Newton knew the radius of

curvature of the lens, and the actual breadth of the rings in parts of

an inch, it was easy to compute that the thickness of air at the darkest

part of the first ring is the 1/89000 part of an inch, whence all the

others have been deduced. As these intervals determine the length of the

waves on the undulatory hypothesis, it appears that the length of a wave

of the extreme red of the solar spectrum is equal to the 0·0000266th

part of an inch; that the length of a wave of the extreme violet is

equal to the 0·0000167th part of an inch; and, as the time of a

vibration of a particle of ether producing any particular colour is

directly as the length of a wave of that colour, and inversely as the

velocity of light, it follows that the molecules of ether producing the

extreme red of the solar spectrum perform 458 millions of millions of

vibrations in a second; and that those producing the extreme violet

accomplish 727 millions of millions of vibrations in the same time. The

lengths of the waves of the intermediate colours, and the number of

their vibrations, being intermediate between these two, white light,

which consists of all the colours, is consequently a mixture of waves of

all lengths between the limits of the extreme red and violet. The

determination of these minute portions of time and space, both of which

have a real existence, being the actual results of measurement, do as

much honour to the genius of Newton as that of the law of gravitation.

The number of advancing waves of light in an inch is known to be from

37,600 to 59,880, and the number of lateral vibrations is from 458 to

727 billions in a second, but the _extent_ of these lateral vibrations

of the particles of the ethereal medium is not known, though both their

extent and velocity are probably very small compared with the length of

the advancing waves and the velocity of propagation. Colour is

identified with the number of vibrations; but whether reflection,

refraction, absorption, &c., have any relations to the lateral

vibrations, or whether they are dependent in part upon some physical

action of the ethereal medium unknown and unsuspected, are points as yet

undetermined. To ascertain these circumstances, Dr. Faraday instituted a

series of the most refined experiments upon the relation of the minute

particles of metals to the vibrations of light.

Gold acts powerfully on light, and possesses a real transparency,

transmitting green rays when very thin; and being capable of extreme

division by solvents without losing its metallic character, its

particles transmit rays of various colours according to their size;

those that transmit the rose-colour in Bohemian glass are of

inconceivable minuteness. The progressive waves of the ether are so long

compared with the dimensions of the molecules to which gold can be

reduced, that it seemed probable to Dr. Faraday when the latter were

placed in a sunbeam that some effective relation might be discovered

between them and the smaller vibrations of the ethereal medium; in which

case, if reflection, refraction, &c., depended upon such relations,

there was reason to expect that these functions would change sensibly by

the substitution of different sized particles of the gold for one

another. At one time Dr. Faraday hoped he had changed one colour into

another by means of gold, which would have been equivalent to a change

in the number of vibrations; but although he has not yet confirmed that

result, his researches are of the greatest interest.[9]

The phenomenon of the coloured rings takes place _in vacuo_ as well as

in air, which proves that it is the distance between the lenses alone,

and not the air, which produces the colours. However, if water or oil be

put between them, the rings contract, but no other change ensues; and

Newton found that the thickness of different media at which a given tint

is seen is in the inverse ratio of their refractive indices, so that the

thickness of laminæ which could not otherwise be measured may be known

by their colour; and, as the position of the colours in the rings is

invariable, they form a fixed standard of comparison, well known as

Newton’s scale of colours; each tint being estimated according to the

ring to which it belongs from the central spot inclusively. Not only the

periodical colours which have been described, but the colours seen in

thick plates of transparent substances, the variable hues of feathers,

of insects’ wings, mother-of-pearl, and of striated substances, all

depend upon the same principle. To these may be added the coloured

fringes surrounding the shadows of all bodies held in an extremely small

beam of light, and the coloured rings surrounding the small beam itself

when received on a screen.

When a very slender sunbeam, passing through a small pin-hole into a

dark room, is received on a white screen, or plate of ground-glass, at

the distance of a little more than six feet, the spot of light on the

screen is larger than the pin-hole: and, instead of being bounded by

shadow, it is surrounded by a series of coloured rings separated by

obscure intervals. The rings are more distinct in proportion to the

smallness of the beam (N. 201). When the light is white there are seven

rings, which dilate or contract with the distance of the screen from the

hole. As the distance of the screen diminishes, the white central spot

contracts to a point and vanishes; and, on approaching still nearer, the

rings gradually close in upon it, so that the centre assumes

successively the most intense and vivid hues. When the light is

homogeneous—red, for example—the rings are alternately red and black,

and more numerous; and their breadth varies with the colour, being

broadest in red light and narrowest in violet. The tints of the coloured

fringes from white light, and their obliteration after the seventh ring,

arise from the superposition of the different sets of fringes of all the

coloured rays. The shadows of objects are also bordered by coloured

fringes when held in this slender beam of light. If the edge of a knife

or hair, for example, be held in it, the rays, instead of proceeding in

straight lines past its edge, are bent when quite close to it, and

proceed from thence to the screen in curved lines called hyperbolas; so

that the shadow of the object is enlarged, and, instead of being at once

bounded by light, is surrounded or edged with coloured fringes

alternating with black bands, which are more distinct the smaller the

pin-hole (N. 202). The fringes are altogether independent of the form or

density of the object, being the same when it is round or pointed, when

of glass or platinum. When the rays which form the fringes arrive at the

screen, they are of different lengths, in consequence of the curved path

they follow after passing the edge of the object. The waves are

therefore in different phases or states of vibration, and either

conspire to form coloured fringes or destroy one another in the obscure

intervals. The coloured fringes bordering the shadows of objects were

first described by Grimaldi in 1665; but, besides these, he noticed that

there are others within the shadows of slender bodies exposed to a small

sunbeam, a phenomenon which has already been mentioned to have afforded

Dr. Young the means of proving, beyond all controversy, that coloured

rings are produced by the interference of light.

It may be concluded that material substances derive their colours from

two different causes: some from the law of interference, such as

iridescent metals, peacocks’ feathers, &c.; others from the unequal

absorption of the rays of white light, such as vermilion, ultramarine,

blue, or green cloth, flowers, and the greater number of coloured

bodies. The latter phenomena have been considered extremely difficult to

reconcile with the undulatory theory of light, and much discussion has

arisen as to what becomes of the absorbed rays. But that embarrassing

question has been ably answered by Sir John Herschel in a most profound

paper on the Absorption of Light by coloured Media, and cannot be better

given than in his own words. It must, however, be premised, that, as all

transparent bodies are traversed by light, they are presumed to be

permeable to the ether. He says,—“Now, as regards only the general fact

of the obstruction and ultimate extinction of light in its passage

through gross media, if we compare the corpuscular and undulatory

theories, we shall find that the former appeals to our ignorance, the

latter to our knowledge, for its explanation of the absorptive

phenomena. In attempting to explain the extinction of light on the

corpuscular doctrine, we have to account for the light so extinguished

as a material body, which we must not suppose annihilated. It may,

however, be transformed; and among the imponderable agents, heat,

electricity, &c., it may be that we are to search for the light which

has become thus comparatively stagnant. The heating power of the solar

rays gives a _primâ facie_ plausibility to the idea of the

transformation of light into heat by absorption. But, when we come to

examine the matter more nearly, we find it encumbered on all sides with

difficulties. How is it, for instance, that the most luminous rays are

not the most calorific, but that, on the contrary, the calorific energy

accompanies, in its greatest intensity, rays which possess comparatively

feeble illuminating powers? These and other questions of a similar

nature may perhaps admit of answer in a more advanced state of our

knowledge; but at present there is none obvious. It is not without

reason, therefore, that the question, ‘What becomes of light?’ which

appears to have been agitated among the photologists of the last

century, has been regarded as one of considerable importance as well as

obscurity by the corpuscular philosophers. On the other hand, the answer

to this question, afforded by the undulatory theory of light, is simple

and distinct. The question, ‘What becomes of light?’ merges in the more

general one, ‘What becomes of motion?’ And the answer, on dynamical

principles, is, that it continues for ever. No motion is, strictly

speaking, annihilated; but it may be divided, and the divided parts made

to oppose and _in effect_ destroy one another. A body struck, however

perfectly elastic, vibrates for a time, and then appears to sink into

its original repose. But this apparent rest (even abstracting from the

inquiry that part of the motion which may be conveyed away by the

ambient air) is nothing else than a state of subdivided and mutually

destroying motion, in which every molecule continues to be agitated by

an indefinite multitude of internally reflected waves, propagated

through it in every possible direction, from every point in its surface

on which they successively impinge. The superposition of such waves

will, it is easily seen, at length operate their mutual destruction,

which will be the more complete the more irregular the figure of the

body, and the greater the number of internal reflections.” Thus Sir John

Herschel, by referring the absorption of light to the subdivision and

mutual destruction of the vibrations of ether in the interior of bodies,

brings another class of phenomena under the laws of the undulatory

theory.

According to Mr. Rankin’s hypothesis of Molecular Vortices[10] the

absorption of light and radiant heat consists in the transference of

motion from the molecules to their atmospheres, and conversely the

emission of light and radiant heat is the transmission of motion from

the atmospheres to the molecules. The great velocity of light and heat

is a natural consequence of this hypothesis, according to which the

vibratory masses must be extremely small compared with the forces

exerted by them.

The ethereal medium pervading space is supposed to penetrate all

material substances, occupying the interstices between their molecules;

but in the interior of refracting media it exists in a state of less

elasticity compared with its density _in vacuo_; and, the more

refractive the medium, the less the elasticity of the ether within it.

Hence the waves of light are transmitted with less velocity in such

media as glass and water than in the external ether. As soon as a ray of

light reaches the surface of a diaphanous reflecting substance, for

example a plate of glass, it communicates its undulations to the ether

next in contact with the surface, which thus becomes a new centre of

motion, and two hemispherical waves are propagated from each point of

this surface; one of which proceeds forward into the interior of the

glass, with a less velocity than the incident waves; and the other is

transmitted back into the air, with a velocity equal to that with which

it came (N. 203). Thus, when refracted, the light moves with a different

velocity without and within the glass; when reflected, the ray comes and

goes with the same velocity. The particles of ether without the glass,

which communicate their motions to the particles of the dense and less

elastic ether within it, are analogous to small elastic balls striking

large ones; for some of the motion will be communicated to the large

balls, and the small ones will be reflected. The first would cause the

refracted wave, and the last the reflected. Conversely, when the light

passes from glass to air, the action is similar to large balls striking

small ones. The small balls receive a motion which would cause the

refracted ray, and the part of the motion retained by the large ones

would occasion the reflected wave; so that, when light passes through a

plate of glass or of any other medium differing in density from the air,

there is a reflection at both surfaces; but this difference exists

between the two reflections, that one is caused by a vibration in the

same direction with that of the incident ray, and the other by a

vibration in the opposite direction.

A single wave of air or ether would not produce the sensation of sound

or light. In order to excite vision, the vibrations of the molecules of

ether must be regular, periodical, and very often repeated: and, as the

ear continues to be agitated for a short time after the impulse by which

alone a sound becomes continuous, so also the fibres of the retina,

according to M. d’Arcet, continue to vibrate for about the eighth part

of a second after the exciting cause has ceased. The interval of time

during which the impression lasts is longer for the blue than for red or

white light: it must not be less than 0ʺ·34. Every one must have

observed, when a strong impression is made by a bright light, that an

object remains visible for a short time after shutting the eyes, which

is supposed to be in consequence of the continued vibrations of the

fibres of the retina. Occasionally the retina becomes insensible to

feebly illuminated objects when continuously presented. If the eye be

turned aside for a moment, the object becomes again visible. It is

probably on this account that the owl makes so peculiar a motion with

its head when looking at objects in the twilight. It is quite possible

that many vibrations may be excited in the ethereal medium incapable of

producing undulations in the fibres of the human retina, which yet have

a powerful effect on those of other animals or of insects. Such may

receive luminous impressions of which we are totally unconscious, and at

the same time they may be insensible to the light and colours which

affect our eyes, their perceptions beginning where ours end.

On the Connexion of the Physical Sciences · 第 20 / 39 章